


Us and the World

by Cogentranting



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:41:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22705639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cogentranting/pseuds/Cogentranting
Summary: A scene taking place during season 7, shortly after Oliver's release from prison
Relationships: Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak
Comments: 3
Kudos: 47





	Us and the World

Warm lights and rich colors framed Felicity and William as they walked into the coffee shop a step ahead of Oliver, and he lost himself for a moment in the vague awe which so often gripped him when he paused to consider that these two perfect people were his family. He followed their lead through the shop, quietly appreciating the lovely domesticity of the scene, as William tried to negotiate his way from a hot chocolate to a coffee and Felicity deftly maneuvered to a compromise of tea. For a little breath of peace, the crowds, the store, the world, were just a scenic background to a reality comprised entirely of these two.

Oliver stepped around them to the counter, offering his card to the barista to pay for the drinks. She flinched. In an instant, the world snapped back into hyper-focus. The girl was rigid, arms tight to her sides, staring at him, as if looking away might prompt him to attack. She didn’t pull away, didn’t say a word. Just darted her small hand up to take the card, handling it like a shard of broken glass. And her wide wide eyes hardly left his face. He’d seen that look before. Plenty of times. He’d just thought he’d left it in the past. It was then that he became aware of all the other faces around the shop watching him. He was not unused to stares. He’d been his parents’ son, the tabloid regular, the foreigner, the mayor. But of course these stares were different. These stares knew the truth.

 _They all know you’re a killer_. He wasn’t sure whose voice it was whispering the words in his head. Maybe Chase. Or Ra’s Al Ghul who predicted this so long ago. It could even be Quentin or Laurel; they’d certainly said such things about him in their lives. All the ghosts of those who’d known what he was and told him so pressed in around him. And those ghosts took up a refrain in a voice that belonged to Chase and Taiana and his father and a dozen others all at once: _You’re a monster and they know it._

The haze of the coffee shop shuddered into brittle clarity. Two main exits, plus a back entrance for employees. The tables filling the room would make maneuvering hard and the tall round design meant they wouldn’t afford much protection should Felicity and William need it. The bank of windows making up the one wall—a brief flash of bullets spraying a limousine quickened his pulse—and the ever shifting crowd of people passing back and forth with hands straying in and out of pockets created too many shadows for him to track. His narrowed gaze swept the room, sorting stares into categories: wary, fearful, aggressive, curious, angry. His thumb rubbed against the callouses on his fingers and-

Felicity’s hand brushed against his shoulder, trailing down to his elbow and she drew him after her and William, toward a table in the corner, without pausing in her animated description of everything she had planned for her start-up. Oliver sat down with his back to the wall, forced the corners of his mouth to turn upwards, and, as Felicity finished her story, asked William about the book he was reading. Still his eyes stayed fixed above his son’s head, monitoring the eclectic stirrings of the crowd.

Felicity wordlessly excused herself and slipped away from the table. She wandered over to a side counter, where the barista who’d served them was now cleaning. Felicity made a brief show of fiddling with the packets of creamer before catching the girl’s eye.

“He’s not dangerous, you know.”

The girl flushed awkwardly, and then jutted her chin defensively, emboldened, perhaps, by Oliver’s relative distance. “The FBI seemed to think he is.”

“Well, I mean, he _is_ dangerous, but he’s not _dangerous_. Not bad-guy-dangerous. And trust me, I have seen a lot of bad guys. Like… literal ninjas and supervillains and Nazis.” The girl’s brow furrowed and Felicity cut herself off with a deep breath. “What I mean is, there’s a lot of stuff to be scared of in the world, but Oliver’s not part of that.”

Together they glanced over at Oliver, and for a moment Felicity saw him through a stranger’s eyes. A large, muscular man, rough with callouses and scars, full of sharp edges and tense lines. And darkened eyes, watching the world from beneath a furrowed brow; something powerful and fearsome simmering within a weaponized soul, and peering through that shifting glare. 

Felicity frowned. He certainly looked like he was about to murder someone. Which wasn’t at all helpful. She turned back to the barista, fixing the girl with an earnest intensity. “I know he looks scary. I know he looks like he might kill someone. And I know that if you’ve heard any of the things people have said about him then you know that he has killed people. But I also know him. Better than anyone. I know how much he cares, and how hard he tries to protect the people of this city. I know all the things he’s given up to try to do that, for the sake of people he’s never met. I know how guilty he feels whenever he can’t protect someone. And I know that, that scary angry murder look he’s got on his face right now isn’t actually angry at all. It’s afraid.”

The barista’s mouth twisted into a scowl of disbelief. “What does the Green Arrow have to be scared of?”

“There are a million and five people in this city right now who hate him. Who’d try to hurt him. And because of that, who’d try to hurt me, or our son. The thing that Oliver wants most in the world is to keep us safe. But right now he’s terrified that just by being around us he’s doing the opposite. Which is ridiculous because there’s no place in the world I feel safer than by his side. But that idea that he is some sort of monster, has eaten him up for years. And I’m not gonna let that happen anymore. I’m going to make him see that he’s a hero even if it means proving it to every other person in this city first. This city needs him to protect it, so it’s up to me to protect him.” Felicity stopped, realizing she wasn’t really addressing the barista anymore. She smiled again, her bright, disarming smile. “Sorry. I just… just thought I should say something to… set you at ease. I guess.” She trailed off and then plucked out one of the packages of creamer she’d been playing with, waved an awkward goodbye, and headed back to her table.

Her arrival broke Oliver’s vigilance and he greeted her with a smile as she’d been gone months not minutes. Felicity sat down with her chair as close to his as she could make it, wrapping herself into his side and resting her head on his shoulder, as William began a new story. And for a little breath of peace, the crowds, the store, the world, were just a scenic background to a reality comprised entirely of these three.


End file.
